In Skaia's Clouds
by SkaianClouds
Summary: A series of drips and drabbles and one shots T for violence and language
1. Index

**In Skaia's Clouds**

Here's a big blanket disclaimer

 **I DON'T OWN HOMESTUCK**

 **1) The Death of the Marquise:** Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Marquise Spinneret Mindfang

The Summoner

 **2) Because of an Accidental Horse:** A crack fic that spawned from a conversation with a friend

 **3) A Void** **Player:** You suppose the emptiness comes with being a Void player. Post-GAME OVER

Roxy Lalonde

 **4) Carry On My Wayward Son:** There'll be peace when you are done. (Or John doesn't understand how to zap, and lands somewhere he never though he'd see again) Not a songfic

Dad Egbert

John Egbert

 **5) Cereal** 3 years is a long time to wait.

Dave Strider

Bro Strider


	2. The Death of the Marquise

The day she had first heard the name of her killer, it had meant nothing to her. Probably a rogue slave, or a lowblood looking for vengeance.

Then, she had the mistake of asking for her lover's name.

Of course, it came as a shock.

She refused to use the oracle again. After her escape from her trial, she gave the oracle to Darkleer.

Perhaps sweeps from now, someone would find it and discover the horrors of the Doctor's 'gift'.

 **~ATH**

As the oracle predicted, she fell in love with the Summoner. It was like nothing she had had before, the brief relationship with the slave was not nearly as passionate as this.

Perhaps it was because she didn't control him this time. Either way, she loved him, she pitied him, and it was _real_.

Which made her regret even more asking the oracle.

Among all the red feelings, there was distrust. Constant fear, worrying, it was all there. And no matter how she tried, she could not forget.

Rufioh would kill her.

As the date drew nearer, her horrorterrors grew so bad that even sopor could not repress them.

Every time she would wake up screaming, Rufioh would run in and comfort her. She would push him away, and he would reassure her, that no one could hurt her, that he was there for her.

Oh, the _irony._

He, of course, had no idea that she was afraid of him. He had no idea of the fate that awaited both of them.

Perhaps it was for the best.

When the day finally came, the Marquise was ready. She began to wonder why she would die. A violent outburst? A false accusation? A _true_ accusation?

When the highbloods came into her hive, she was caught off guard. Perhaps the oracle had lied? But no, it had never been wrong before. Was it one of the Doctor's 'games'?

When a highblood pulled out his clubs, she didn't beg for mercy. When the first blow made contact, she didn't scream. She was the Marquise for god's sake. Plunderer of the seas. The famous gamblignant. The pirate who escaped the Condesce for sweeps.

She wouldn't scream.

She bit her lip, blow after blow, she thought it would never stop. Agony coursed through her body, why wouldn't they kill her?

Cobalt blood stained the floor, until the troll stopped. She couldn't look up, she couldn't move, he had broken almost every bone in her body.

He kneeled down to her ear, his breath reeking of sopor.

"Tell the Summoner that this is his MOTHERFUCKING WARNING." His ridiculously loud voice blasted her eardrums, leaving an unpleasant ringing sound. She heard thunderous footsteps, the sign that the Highbloods had left.

She was not relieved.

She was too close to death. Not quite alive, but not dead either. An endless torture. Each shuddering breath she took caused immense pain in her ribs. Each cough of blood left her gasping for air. There was no way to tell how long it was until Rufioh came back.

But he did.

He ran to her on the floor, his face inches from her own.

"Aranea?" he whispered.

Mindfang was too weak to move, and even if she weren't any movement would have cost her immense pain.

She reached into his mind, and felt no resistance. She reached his hand into a pool of her own blood, and began to write.

 _Please kill me._

 _Don't m8ke me suffer even more._

Brown tears ran down his face.

 _When the end comes I want it to 8e from you._

 _Please, Rufioh._

 _Do it._

 _I won't force you to do anything._

Rufioh sobbed, but nodded. He grabbed his lance, but not before one last message.

 _I love you._

And in one swift movement, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang was dead.

 **~ATH**

And in another time, a boy cannot do what his ancestor did sweeps ago.

 **SHOT THROUGH THE HEART**

 **AND YOU'RE TO BLAME**

 **DARLIN YOU GIVE LOVE**

 **A BAD NAME (BAD NAME)**


	3. Because of an Accidental Horse

CT: D- Oh

CT: D- How 100d

CT: D- Such majesty

CT: D- I need a towel

AC: :33 what's wrong equihiss?

CT: D- I...

CT: D- I need a towel

CT: D- That musclebeast is one of the most e%quisitely STRONG specimen I have ever laid my eyes on

*Kanaya hands towel to Equius while Nepeta is still mildly confused*

GC: G4G 4LL 1 C4N SM3LL 1S SW34T

GC: SOM3ON3 G3T H1M 4 GOGD4MN TOW3L

GA: As You Can See Terezi I Have Already Given A Towel To Equius

GC: Y34H BUT 1 M3AN

GC: SOM3ON3 G3T TH4T DUD3 SOM3 FUCK1NG D3OD3R4NT

CG: STOP YELLING YOU FUCKING DIP-

GC: SHUT UP NUBBY NO ON3 W4NTS TO L1ST3N TO YOU

D- I...

GC: K33P YOUR D1SGUST1NG 4N4LOG13S TO YOURS3LF

TG: heh

TG: anal ogies?

GC: :/

CG: REAL MATURE DAVE

GC: SNORT

CT: D- I really need a towel

CG: WHY THE EVERLOVING FUCK DO YOU NOT HAVE A TOWEL IN YOUR SYLLADEX

GA: I Question That As Well

CG: HAS YOU THINK PAN ROTTED FROM ALL THE FUMES YOU EXUDE FROM EVERY ORFICE

CG: NO

CG: DON'T EVEN FUCKING ANSWER THAT

CG: I KNOW THE ANSWER

CG: IT'S YES

CG: YOU'RE AS BRAIN-DAMAGED AS THE JUGGALO

CG: AT LEAST HE HAS HIS PIES AS AN EXCUSE

TC: bRo...

TC: ThE pIeS aRe MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcLeS

CG: ARGH

TC: bRo...

CG: I AM CONTEMPLATING RIPPING MY AUDITORIAL SPONGES OUT SO I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS BULLSHIT

TC: ThE pIeS bRo

CG: YES THE PIES

CG: WHAT ABOUT THE PIES

CG: AND I SWEAR TO WHATEVER DEITY IS OUT THERE LAUGHING AT MY PAIN RIGHT NOW IF YOU SAY MIRACLES I WILL DO A MOTHERFUCKING ACROBATIC PIROUETTE OFF THE HANDLE BACK TO OUR POINTLESS GAME SESSION AND HIT BEC NOIR UP THE SNOUT SO HARD THERE WILL BE LITTLE FUCKING TEARS IN HIS EYES

TC: mOtHeRfUcKiNg MiRaClEs BrO!  
TC: HoNk :o)

CG: ARGHHHHHHH  
CG: I AM SO DONE

CG: WITH EVERYTHING

CT: D- ...

CG: RIGHT NOW I AM THINKING OF DELIVERING MYSELF TO ENGLISH SO I WON'T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS BULLSHIT ANYMORE

AC: :33 ?

CG: AND SOMEONE GIVE EQUIUS A FUCKING TOWEL ALREADY

GC: H3H3 NUBSY SUR3 D1D DO 4 MOTH3RFUCK1NG P1ROU3TT3

GC: OFF TH3 D33P 3ND

GC: :]

GA: Er...

GA: I Am Afraid That Equius Has Already Soaken The First Towel

GA: And The Second

GA: How One Contains So Much Sweat In A Single Body Is Beyond Me

GA: Is Soaken Even A Word

CG: OH FUCK ME

CA: wwas that an invvitation kar?

CG: OH MY FUCKING GOD  
CG: WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS  
CG: WHY ARE WE EVEN HAVING THIS DISCUSSION

GA: I Think I Will Be Taking My Leave Now

CG: NO KANAYA  
CG: DON'T LEAVE ME WITH THESE IDIOTS  
CG: YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WITH ANY COMMON SENSE

CG: AND APPARENTLY YOU'RE ALSO THE ONLY PERSON SMART ENOUGH TO CAPTALOGUE A TOWEL

CG: EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE THE MOST INCONVENIENT SYLLADEX MODUS EVER

*Kanaya absconds*

CA: so its just you and me noww kar

TC: hOnK

GC: H4H4

GC: OH MY GOG

GC: TH1S 1S SO FUCK1NG H1L4R1OUS

GC: 1 C4N 4CTU4LLY T4ST3 TH3 D3SP3R4TION

*Equius sweats and quickly runs to go get a towel leaving a large puddle where he was standing*

GC: 33W

*Kanaya comes to the doorway but quickly leaves after seeing the scene*

*Karkat bangs his head repeatedly on the wall*

*Sollux looks up from his computer*

TA: whoa liike what the actual fuck ii2 goiing on here

TA: eh who know2 and who care2

*Sollux looks back at computer*

 **As the title says, this beautiful work of art was spawned by an accidental horse emoji. Me and my buddy were texting, and she accidentally put a horse emoji. And it all went downward from there.**

 **(Our conversation afterwards was:**

 **HER: We have issues.**

 **ME: I feel the urge to make a comic. And Ed. Erm yes. Yes we do. We really do. But** **they're** **good issues.**

 **HER: YUUUPPP**

 **ME: They're homestuck issues**

 **HER: INDEEED THEY ARE**

 **ME: But right now I am crying tears of fucking joy because this is so beautiful my mind cannot comprehend)**

 **If anyone cares, Vriska is laughing at Tavros because he fell down the stairs, and Aradia is just silently standing in a corner, watching the whole thing. And Feferi is** **…** **eh who knows where the fuck Feferi is.**

 **Dave just popped in real quick for time shenanigans.**

 **As usual, Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. Who is a guy. Last I checked, I was not a guy.**


	4. A Void Player

You suppose that the dull, empty feeling comes with being a Void player.

You just watched your teen mom, if you could call her that, die in your arms. You cried, not even feeling what you should have - your head is telling you that you need to cry but your heart feels nothing.

John is standing there, and the whole world is silent.

You think he says something, but you don't hear. Inside of you is mind-numbing blankness. You can barely think, let alone speak (you feel the words coming out but you don't hear them), and you continue to sit there, watching her dead body, hoping that somehow that the clock is going to give you your mom back, the mom you never got to know, the mom you always wanted to know.

Your hopes are unfounded; it's been at least five minutes and there's no sign of regeneration, though your sense of time is somewhat skewed. Five minutes, five hours, it makes no difference.

And then the emotions hit you like a bus, fear, guilt, anger, depression, and the thoughts are back too, _why couldn't you save her, why can't you do anything, why does everything you touch keep falling apart._ They're gone as quickly as they came.

 _Why can't you feel more._

You guess you gave everything away, and left nothing for yourself, spent too much trying to fix everyone else, and in some sick way, you're happy not to feel.

No, feel's not the right word, you feel everything with a certain clarity. There's just a feeling of detachment from them.

And the emptiness is replaced by a desire to fix it, no matter the cost. You don't care what it takes, you would give your life to fix everything, but your a giver, and you can't give something you don't have.

You hear John mention his Denizen, and you say that you will see yours too. He leaves, and the Breeze brushes against your cheek.

As you begin your journey, you hope that he can find something to help.

Not that hope matters that much anyway.

The Page is dead, your hope is lost.

The Maid is dead, your life means nothing.

The Prince is dead your heart is gone.

The Rogue lives on, the Void expands.

 **This has been sitting on my computer collecting dust for the last month or so.**

 **It makes no sense, bending the rules of canon, but what can I say, it was a quick little one-shot to break writer's block**

 **No, Tick Tock has not been discontinued still working on it**

 **Homestuck** **Andrew Hussie**


	5. Carry On My Wayward Son

Joel Egbert was baking a cake when it happened. He had just been mixing the batter when he heard a strange sound. He put the batter down and turned to look for whatever had caused the noise.

There was nothing out of place except for the fact that a boy who looked suspiciously like his son stood in the middle of the kitchen, garbed in strange blue robes, staring at him with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"What?" the boy finally managed to breathe out. His voice was shaking with extreme emotion, and the next word seemed to tear the boy in two.

"Dad?"

Joel dropped the spoon that had been caught in his bone-shattering grip and it clattered to the ground, the sound unnaturally loud in the stifling silence of the kitchen.

"Son?" he asked, because he couldn't believe it, it _had_ to be a prank, that boy was so old, so much older than his son, and he looked _so broken._ An ugly bruise adorned the left side of his face which marred his boy's handsome features. And his _eyes_ , oh dear lord, _his eyes_. His boy's normal crystal-blue eyes were dark, darker than any child should ever have, and there's so much pain and suffering in those eyes, but he also saw the faintest hint of hope in them.

He looked just like a soldier straight off of the battlefield.

And then he ran forward and embraced his old man in a hug and it felt so good. His boy hadn't hugged him that hard since he was seven.

He felt the wetness of tears on his shirt, and even if he had no idea what was going on, he was going to be there for his son.

"I-" he began, and his voice cracked, "I missed you _so much."_

Joel let go of his boy's desperate arms so he could look at how much his little boy had grown. His face was less round, less boyish, and he was still wearing the thick glasses he had never been seen without, though they looked like someone had just taped them together.

"John," he murmured, "Oh my boy, what _happened_ to you?"

John cracked a small smile, and for a second he saw the boy he had raised, the one who made terrible jokes all the time, but he always would laugh because he was his boy.

"Tends to happen when you fight evil green alien dudes."

Well then.

"Dad?" he asked, his voice full of poorly-concealed emotion.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared." And though Joel would never admit it, he was too. He was scared for his boy.

John looked like he wanted to say more, but a faint blue glow began to surround him.

"I love you."

And Joel can barely breathe, his voice was caught in the back of his throat.

"And I am so _so_ sorry."

And all Joel could think to say was, "It'll be okay."

And then his boy was gone, leaving him alone with him and his thoughts.

When John got home from school later, he simply wished his son a happy birthday and went back to baking his cake.

It was April 13, 2009, and that was the last time he ever talked to his son.

(It's April 13, 2012, and you finally got to say you're sorry)

 **One does** **not** **simply walk away from a fight with the Lord of Time unscathed. And for Dad's name, Joel is a very gentleman-like name to me plus fits the 4-letter rule and fits the J's of the Egbert/Crocker/Harley/English family tree This idea spawned a while ago, and it wouldn't leave me alone. If I got any tenses wrong WHATEVER I AM SICK OF LOOKING AT THIS DOCUMENT.** _**ANYWAYS**_ **this happens before the whole 'There's no place like home' thing soooo yeah John still has no idea what he's doing. And if he seems out of character, I've always seen John as the rock of the group sorta. I mean, the kid had to be devastated but he had to help Rose and Roxy that he had no time to deal with his own grief. And seeing your dead father is sure to bring up some old feelings I'm sure. Also, consider this: GCAT is the DNA code right? Well EB** **(Ethidium Bromide) fits between the base pairs of DNA and makes them visible by dying it blue. Just some food for thought**

 **EDIT 5/4/15 Fixed some tenses and made the dialogue smoother**

Homestuck © Andrew Hussie


	6. Cereal

There's nothing worse than coming home to an empty house.

Dirk Strider was a person who knew this; his little brother had been missing for the last three years after all. And yet, still, day after day he returned to the apartment filled with puppet ass and shitty swords strewn about the floor.

His brother wouldn't know where to look for him if he moved, after all.

One day he came home to his brother eating cereal.

Dave was just sitting there on the couch, watching some shitty anime while he devoured a bowl of Fruit Loops.

Dirk just stared, because there was no way in hell that this was happening.

"What."

Dave turned around at the sound of his bro's voice, and for the first time since Dave was a baby, Dirk saw Dave smile. Not a smirk, but a honest-to-god _smile_.

"Hey Bro," he said, and his voice cracked. "Sorry I ate all your cereal."

.

.

.

.

.

"You mad?"

 **Hello, darkness, my old friend.**

 **Based on the Tumblr prompt,** "Who wouldn't be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!"

 **As usual, I own nothing but the voices inside my head**


End file.
